


Charmed Month: Fic Challenge

by katasstropheee



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Aftercare, Baking, COVID-19, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Charmed Month, Childhood Memories, Coitus Interruptus, Developing Friendships, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Haunted Houses, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Necromancy, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Safe Space, Sarcasm, Sassy, Shopping, Sisters, Sunburn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 16,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25646479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katasstropheee/pseuds/katasstropheee
Summary: a series of fics dedicated to #CharmedMonth on twitter.I challenged myself to do a different pairing for each prompt so expect the most random assortment of stories.
Relationships: Galvin Burdette/Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood & Maggie Vera, Harry Greenwood & Mel Vera, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn, Jada Shields/Mel Vera, Macy Vaughn & Maggie Vera, Macy Vaughn & Mel Vera, Maggie Vera & Marisol Vera, Marisol Vera/Dexter Vaughn, Mel Vera & Jordan Chase, Ruby/Mel Vera
Comments: 100
Kudos: 39





	1. Stultus Interruptio (Mel/Ruby)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Mel/Ruby  
> Prompt: “Put your pants on!”

Something startled Melanie awake. She wasn’t sure what it was at first. Not until she felt another soft brush at the apex of her hip.

She struggles to roll over, having to lift her back to free her arm that’s trapped beneath. The singlet shirt she’s wearing is also tangled around her waist, with one of the straps somehow tied tighter over her right wrist. With a few more twists and hard tugs, she’s finally free.

Her eyes, flushed with sleep, meet the wide and rested stare of Ruby. She couldn’t see where her hands lay beneath the sheets, but she sure could feel them. “Hm, someone’s up for round two.”

“What can I say? You impressed me last night.”

Mel chuckles, wiping her face against her forearm. “Which time?”

“Well… I think it was when you were on top, holding me down…” As Ruby describes the evening’s activities in impeccable detail, the feeling slowly returns to Mel’s legs. As well as the stretch of warm flesh between them.

“Oh!” Mel chips in when Ruby takes a moment to catch her breath. “Are you referring to when I was-“ With a small buzz of energy and a groan to match, Mel lifts herself, draping her leg over Ruby’s lap and nestling her ass securely in her lap. Ignoring the clear signs that she was in fact _not_ wearing any underwear, she instead focuses on the way Ruby’s eyes grow wider in anticipation for her next move. “Hm, when I was like _this_?”

“Yeah” she confirms, her voice elevated with new flares of deep arousal. “And if I recall, your hands were in my hair.”

“So, like this?”

Mel fails to read the clock on Ruby’s side table. The one that displays 9.02 am in bright red letters. Her attention, once dedicated to simply waking up, is now too enthralled in reliving last night to be aware of anything in the present. Right now, she is all about kissing the length of Ruby’s neck, her hands pulling at her thick curls, and her hips gradually shifting as the burn in her loins becomes too much to handle.

So _of course_ she would be unaware and equally as unprepared for a sudden intrusion. All she’s made aware of is a-

_*Snap*_

“Melanie, we need- _OH DEAR HEAVEN!_ ”

The sudden exclamation of familiar British makes Mel scream, causing her to scramble for instant coverage, to protect what’s left of her modesty. In turn, that just makes her fall off the bed. She hits the timber below with a hard thwack!

She closes her eyes, waiting for the searing pain to die before even attempting to move. She thanks the goddess Athena that the sheet had fallen with her, so she quickly wraps as much of it as she can muster around her waist. As she clambers on to her knees, she can just make out Harry’s voice, babbling on in nervous apologies from the other side of the room. When she finally gets a better look at the man, he’s facing the other way.

Chivalry may not be dead. But after today, Mel might have a hand of killing it once and for all.

Instead, she focuses on aiming her glares at Maggie, the companion he had travelled in with, who is still facing the scene with a gobsmacked and… almost impressed expression. It also doesn’t help that Ruby hasn’t even attempted to cover herself up.

“So… what brings you both here this fine morning?” Ruby offers in greeting, folding her arms over her chest. Her breasts are still bare, nipples plump from the sudden loss of Mel’s body heat.

Maggie is trying to communicate, but she leaves it all up to Harry as she brings a hand up to her mouth. Her body shakes, holding in an eruption of laughter she knows is threatening to come out.

After Harry, very ungracefully, declares that they need Mel for a ‘demonic’ situation, the older sister sighs. The burn in her lower extremities is all but gone at this point, so she might as well start her day now. Where it went from here, was anyone’s guess.

Maggie knows for the rest of _her_ day, she would be the target of Mel’s rage. And she would gladly accept that fact, even if just to add one last witty comment to the otherwise embarrassing situation. She opens her mouth, and prepares for the wrath of Melanie Vera…

“Hm, maybe you should _put your pants on_ first.”

At that, Mel reaches for something, _anything_ , she can chuck at her sister. She manages to find a small, hard object, which is slightly moist to the touch. She has a feeling it’s one of the ‘toys’ Ruby had introduced to her last night…

Right now, it’s a weapon. And that was something she could always work with.

But at Maggie’s terrible advice, Harry knew they needed to escape. Still facing the archway leading to Ruby’s bathroom, Harry quickly grabs Maggie’s arm, uttering another of a dozen apologies before orbing away. He’s lucky – if he had waited but another second, he would have been hit square in the head with a dildo, much to Ruby’s enjoyment as she watched it fly across the room.

In fact, she looks unbothered by the intrusion altogether. When the silence falls to just Mel’s heavy breathing, Ruby turns her head to gaze at the woman still kneeling on her floor. “Is _that_ … gonna be a regular thing or-”

Well, if Mel had anything to say about it…


	2. Acceptance (Macy/Mel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Macy/Mel  
> Prompt: “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you”
> 
> _Set during 1.02 Let This Mother Out._

Marisol was dead. Once again.

After vanquishing the demon that stole her face, Melanie Vera needed a moment. She left Maggie and Macy with the duty of cleaning up the mess downstairs with affirmation to do the same in the attic. Harry had offered his assistance, but she declined. She needed the space, and he respected the dismissal with grace.

And she _was_ grateful. Because as soon as she reached the highest floor of the manor and knelt down to sweep up some tiny shattering’s of glass, she broke. The tears cascaded down her cheeks with little effort, pooling on a patch of her jeans. She kept up the effort of cleaning, even if her body just wanted to collapse right where it was.

A few minutes passed. It could’ve been an hour, for all Mel knew. Even so, it was enough time for her to get some bearing. She wiped the last bits of dew from her lashes as a soft knock from the door pierced the silence of the room.

“Melanie.” Macy’s voice was hesitant, and she made no move to intrude on her sister’s space.

 _Sister_. That was a word Mel would need to become accustomed to all over again.

“Yeah” she said, turning to face her. She tried to keep her face expressionless, but noticing Macy’s slight cower almost broke the dam she had just built back up.

“Sorry to interrupt. It’s just… we’re done downstairs, and Maggie’s room is definitely the worst off, so we could really use your help. Um, if you’re up for it. No pressure.”

It was unusual to see such a confident woman stutter like this. At least, that’s how Mel envisioned her. In the few moments they had to catch their breaths since witchcraft had bombarded their lives, she had seen Macy’s constant straight posture, warm eyes, and ability to stand up to Mel’s strongest scrutinies as her biggest strengths. There was no doubt – she was definitely a Vera.

“Uh, sure. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Macy turned to leave, her silhouette growing and moving across the open door. “Macy?” At Mel’s call, the silhouette shifted, standing still in patience for what she had to say. “ _I’m sorry I didn’t trust you_. About mom.”

There was a moment of calm, before she heard the echo that came from Macy’s reply; “It’s okay. I-I’m sorry I was wrong.”

Mel smiled, despite feeling no reprieve at that apology. “It’s okay” she reflected in return.


	3. Easing The Burn (Mel/Jordan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Mel/Jordan  
> Prompt: Sunburn
> 
> _can be set mid or post season two._

Mel had passed Jordan’s gym three times that morning, and each time she had noticed how stiff he seemed. He was struggling to throw punches, which for a man of his stature was unusual.

Upon the third observation, Mel had rushed off to get something from her ‘bag of tricks’. The man himself had coined that particular phrase.

Upon returning, she found him staring off into the distance, leaning heavily on his knees and clearly exhausted.

“Show me.”

He jumped at the sudden intrusion to his reverie. “Mel, what brings you here?”

“You!” she exclaimed plainly. “You’re clearly in some sort of physical pain. So hurry up and show me.”

He didn’t hesitate. He knew better than to argue with a witch, especially one as determined as Melanie Vera. He turned and lifted his shirt, stripping it off to reveal a small batch of peeling skin at the centre of his back.

Mel hissed in empathy. “Don’t you own sunscreen?”

“I do. And I was applying it… for a few hours.”

“Hm, and then you just forgot?”

He heard a pop, then the familiar note of two hands rubbing together. He stiffened, anticipating the pain that would come from her touch. “I was… busy.”

He attempted to explain away his omission, but Mel wasn’t buying it. He expected her to somehow lash out at him, even though his mistake was too trivial to be that upset about.

And he had been right of course. In that moment Mel had other more serious matters on her mind. Even so, her touch was delicate. She took a small dose of green cream and rubbed it in circles over the burnt skin. The sting was brief, and was soon followed by a tingling sensation. As the pain was slowly massaged away, Jordan moaned in appreciation. “Wow, that’s amazing. Is that one of your recipes?”

“No, actually. It’s Katrina’s.”

Ah, Katrina. The owner of Spellbound Botanica. His limited curiosity had never let him venture into the store itself, but he had spoken to the young woman a few times. She was nice. He could see how her appeal would be more present to someone like Mel.

“Remind me to thank her, next time I see her.” He turned, leaving his shirt off. He rolled his shoulders, testing the tension in his muscles. They were all at ease once again. “For now Mel, thank _you_. I’m sorry if I wasted your time.”

“Eh, it was no biggie” she shrugged, popping the cork back into the small vile. “Just remember to apply more sunscreen next time.”

“Ha, yeah. Will do.”

With that she left, making a sharp right at the door. He watched her leave in a hurry, taking a second to feel the soothing sensation of the potion for just a moment longer.


	4. First Day (Maggie/Marisol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Maggie/Marisol  
> Prompt: “Hold my hand”

“Quickly. _Hold my hand_.”

Maggie was now at the height of Marisol’s hip. So she didn’t have to rise up on her tippy-toes anymore to reach her hand. She gripped it tightly, still a step behind as they hurried across the road.

She could feel her young daughter burying herself deeper into her coat the closer they got to the school. After all, it was her first day of kindergarten. The nerves were expected.

What she had not expected, was how much Maggie would miss her sister. They had already dropped Melanie off at elementary along the way, and it had taken a lot of persuasion and promises of ice-creams after school, just to get Maggie to let go of her.

Mel had been reluctant too. She was protective of her younger sibling, having taken her under her wing at an early age. Of course, Maggie had followed her sister’s every lead with great enthusiasm, and shed many tears as she waved goodbye and watched Melanie disappear past the large iron gates.

The school they now approached had a similar entrance. But the small pile of screaming kids at the foot of the gate pricked at Maggie’s interest. She untucked her face to watch them hug their parents. “Are-are they like me, mommy?”

Marisol gazed down at her daughter, whose wide eyes were staring right back. She knelt down, producing a handkerchief from her pocket. “Yes, my dear. It looks like this might be their first day too.”

She wiped Maggie’s cheeks and nose, making the young girl squirm. Marisol couldn’t help but smile, admiring how adorable she looked in her pink dress and gold slippers. Maggie had insisted on dressing herself that morning.

“But mom… what if they don’t like me?”

“Margarita.” She took her daughters face in her hands, wiping away a stray tear that sat high on her rosy cheekbone. “You are going to have an amazing day. And if you don’t make any friends today, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow” Maggie repeated. She looked hesitantly back at the school, then took in a massive breath, her chest puffing out. “Okay mommy. I’m ready.”

“Of course you are.” She left a quick kiss on her forehead before standing.

Maggie wiped her eyes one last time before producing a bright smile. “I’ll see you at three mom. Don’t be late.”

The new determination her youngest was now showing was definitely something she picked up from Melanie. She was grateful she had someone strong and reliable in her life. She blew her a last kiss as Maggie ran through the gates.


	5. Definitely Haunted! (Ray/The Manor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Ray/the manor  
> Prompt: “I have come to the conclusion that this house is haunted!”

The sister’s had acknowledged the house’s sentience some time ago. There were just too many coincidences piling up for there to be a better explanation.

So it came to no surprise when the house would show disdain to some of their guests. It was nothing to worry about – the house would only fight back if it was under immediate danger or if one of the sisters or their house patrons needed assistance.

It never intentionally lashed out. Not until today.

“Well, _I have come to the conclusion that his house is…_ in fact _, haunted_.”

Maggie sighed, taking her father’s words at face value. “Ray, the house is not haunted.”

“Well, how would you know?” he argued. “I’m sure plenty of vanquished demons still haunt these walls.”

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of _vanquishing_ them in the first place?” She emphasised the word ‘vanquish’ with two raised fingers, ignoring her father’s familiar ‘daddy knows what’s best’ stare. “Besides, ghosts usually come from the living. And as far as I can recall, no human has died in this house.”

He rose a finger to correct her, with Marisol’s name on the edge of his lips. But before he could rebuff, Maggie cut back in. “And no. I know exactly what you’re about to say.” She exhaled again, turning towards the stairs. “If only mom was haunting us…”

He was so surprised by Maggie’s outburst, that he missed what she said after. “Since when are you so… headstrong?” he asked curiously, picturing the daughter he used to dismiss as ‘ditzy’ and ‘precious’ in a whole new light. He had clearly been a terrible father, to make such assessments.

“It comes with the territory” she shrugged, brushing off the commentary and crooking a finger over her shoulder. He was to follow her. He quickly scooped his suitcase off the floor, hurrying a little too quickly to keep up. She was already halfway up the flight by the time he reached the first step.

Three steps up, and he stumbled. He was able to save his face by landing harshly on his knees, bracing the carpet with one hand. “Whoa, you good?” he heard Maggie ask.

He hissed at the fresh burn on his palm. “Yeah, yeah. I think I just lost my footing.” He rose slowly, still clutching his luggage in the crook of his arm. When he looked down to brush lint off his knees, he noticed a small ridge in the carpet. It must’ve been what he had tripped on. Only... he couldn’t recall seeing it before ascending the stairs.

Then right before his eyes, the carpet righted itself. It slowly rolled back till it was smooth once again. He gasped, peering up at his daughter with a finger pointed accusingly at the floor. She had already turned away. “Di-did you see that? The house just tried to _kill_ me.”

“Unlikely” Maggie chirped in, her head appearing over the banner from the top floor. “If it wanted you dead, you would be.” She smiled, as if that news wasn’t supposed to make him feel like his skin was crawling with a thousand tiny mites. “Come on, dad. Pick up the pace.”

He was still gobsmacked, looking around quickly to see if there were any other obstacles that lay in his way. “I-I’m sorry” he apologised to no one, making his way up the stairs.


	6. False Assurance (Maggie/Harry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Maggie/Harry  
> Prompt: “They can’t hurt you anymore”
> 
> _Set during 1x10 Keep Calm and Harry On_

“It can’t hurt you anymore.”

Those words are supposed to bring comfort. Security. She knows it, but she can’t quite believe it yet.

She should be sleeping. Resting. Dreaming of better things. But her mind keeps wondering back to the source of the aching bones, and aching headache.

She didn’t want to admit that she had become used to the screaming in her head. Or to the heat that brushed her skin. Or the images imprinted under her lids, that she saw crisp and clean every time she shut her eyes.

So instead of being alone in her room with these very thoughts, she’s in the attic. Harry is with her, barely clinging to consciousness but too afraid to accept sleep.

They’d been sitting like this, in silence for an hour – side by side, bare feet bouncing against the cool timber floor, one hand bound in a tight fist or clutching the rough material of the sofa, and the other hand intertwined tightly to each other. They’re too consumed in worry and fear to let go, less this be another nightmare conjured up by the beast of Tartarus.

Then, Harry speaks, for the first time since they reached home.

And even within the bubbling turmoil, she finds his voice calming. Simply because he had finally said something. Because those words – “it can’t hurt you anymore” – did nothing to compel any sensation of feeling better.

But perhaps, those words weren’t just said for her consumption. He had said them so low, and so delicately, that maybe he had just said them for himself. To quell his own demons.

Because maybe he felt just as cold, as lost, as tormented as she did. She had no idea what Harry saw while they were in that hell space. Her past was still so fresh and painful, but Harry’s is extensive. He must have seen and been through some tough times as a whitelighter. Or maybe that beast had reached in further, taking moments from decades ago, back when he was alive.

No, she couldn’t dare to imagine it. She was still dealing with her own trauma. And right now, she couldn’t bear to take on any others.

Fortunately, her powers were not working at their greatest in that moment. Or maybe Harry was just fighting off the strength to think with the little he had left.

There wasn’t much else they could do. All they _could_ do was sit there by each other, grasping for hope that when the morning came, it would take their fears along with the dark.

“ _They can’t hurt you anymore_.”


	7. The One (Macy/Maggie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Macy/Maggie  
> Prompt: Shopping for a swimsuit

Macy held up the suit. Once at eye level, she stretched out the material, testing its durability.

It was almost completely see-through. “Nope, not what I’m looking for.”

“Seriously?” Maggie exclaimed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s the fifteenth one you’ve dismissed.”

She huffed. “Well, I don’t think I’ve looked at fifteen-“

“No, you have. I’ve been counting.”

She gave her sister a knowing look, before turning to walk further down the aisle. “I’m not gonna apologise Maggie. You know how I feel about… this stuff.” She gestured at a thin strapless bralette to emphasise her point.

Maggie sighed. She placed a gentle hand on Macy’s back, and was immediately overcome with a nervous tension. “I know. I’ll apologise instead. I guess I’m just… bothered by it. You shouldn’t be feeling this way. You’re a… stunning woman!”

She said that sentence an octave too high, causing a few wondering shoppers to look their way. Macy looked down, blushing. “Okay, okay. You’re forgiven.”

Maggie smiled her cheeky grin that spelled ‘of course you do’ very plainly over her high cheekbones. She turned quickly, her hair flying around to bundle neatly over her left shoulder. “Now, we continue on the hunt for the perfect swimsuit for one, _Doctor_ Macy Vera-Vaughn.”

“Uh, since when am I hyphenated?”

“Since you became our sister. And when you _eventually_ marry Harry, do not deny it- “she pointed a finger back, rebuffing Macy’s oncoming argument, “then you’ll be Doctor Macy Vera-Vaughn-Greenwood.”

“Wow. No. That’s… a _mouth_ ful.”

“Well I think it has a certain ring to- _ah!_ ”

She gasps, making Macy stumble to a quick stop. She watches Maggie rush down to the end of aisle where she pulls a black number off a discount rack. She can’t quite see what it is, but she can see the absolute glee on Maggie’s face when she rushes right back to her.

“I have found it! Macy, this is perfect for you!”

“Okay, okay. Mags, let me be the judge of that.” She only halted Maggie’s excitement because the last seven or so times this happened, they had all been red herrings. So even though she gave her the best pout she could muster, Maggie nodded solemnly, accepting Macy’s request.

She passed her the once-piece suit. It’s black, and slender. Macy runs the fabric between her fingers – it feels thick and durable. The neck line is at a comfortable alignment to the top of her breasts, and there’s a clasp this time, to hold it securely behind her neck. The only proportion of mid-drift skin showing would be from two circles cut into the waist. But they weren’t that big. Macy held it up to the store’s harsh fluorescents and liked what she saw.

Maggie saw the change in her sister’s once concerned expression. “So… this is the one?”

She turned her gaze to Maggie, who was half a step away from scolding her sister for once again declining her recommendations.

But then a warm smile grew on her face. “Yeah. This is the one.”


	8. Don't Mess With (a) Swan! (Swan/Safe Space)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Swan/Safe Space  
> Prompt: “The first person that says anything unpleasant will get a swift kick in the butt.”

“Hey! Quieten down guys!”

The collected group of Safe Space – which stood at about 50-60 people, including Maggie and Jordan in tow – stood at the base of the stairs. Up on the first landing, halfway up to the second floor, stood Swan.

As assistant manager, she usually had team discussions in this manner, with everyone crowded together in the middle of the hectic workspace. It took a lot of concentration for Maggie to hear her sometimes, since the woman was very soft spoken, if not a little too enthusiastic about her position.

“Hi, everyone. Thank you for coming” she began. As she pressed on without her usual introduction, that included her preferred gender pro-nouns, Maggie and Jordan exchanged glances.

“As you all know, COVID-19 restrictions have hit this company hard. But through this trying time, I believe we can all come out stronger on the other side. But that can only happen if we follow protocol.

“Now, I sent out a big email last week, detailing the new guidelines we will be following for the foreseeable future. A lot of you got back to me, and have been following these guidelines splendidly. I couldn’t be prouder of you all.”

As she gushed, she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. For a moment the glare that crossed the lens made her expression look darker. Jordan swallowed nervously beside Maggie, who could feel the tension coming off his skin in small waves.

“However, I have also received correspondence from some… particular members of staff who have reported misconduct and slacking when it comes to those guidelines. Now, I know this is hard. As entrepreneurs and visionaries, we have all had to go through changes just like this, haven’t we?” A resounding ‘yes’ rolled through the crowd. “So I can understand if you all need time to adjust. I am here to assist you if that is the case.

“However…” A small murmur that was filtering through the crowd suddenly went silent. Swan had never risen her voice that high before, and it seemed before Maggie’s arrival, it wasn’t a usual occurrence either. Even Jordan was struck by the change in tone. “However, I will not allow the personnel of Safe Space to show any disrespect to a fellow employer or visitor for following these rules. If you have nothing nice to say, then be silent. If you refuse to follow the rules authorised by the Manager of this organisation, then you can stay home.

“ _The next person that chooses to say anything unpleasant_ , _or disrespect_ , _will get a swift kick in the butt_ , on the way out the door!”

The silence felt louder than sound, and seemed to bounce off every corner like an echo. Even a few passing pedestrian were halted in their place. After a moment of this, Swan changed again, becoming her old bubbly self, the one everyone was so used to. The one they now realised, they took for granted.

“So, with those precautions now in mind, let’s get back to work!”

She turned and hopped up the stairs, disappearing from sight. No one dared to move until she was gone, and even then there was a collective sigh of relief that reverberated off the walls. Maggie could still feel the nerves coming from Jordan. “Wow” he exclaimed. “Who would have thought?”

“Yeah” Maggie agreed, a small smile growing on her lips. “I need to tell Mel, asap.” She gave Jordan a determined look. “I think we can add another badass to the team.”


	9. Soft Comfort (Mel/Jada)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Mel/Jada  
> Prompt: "You! Rest! Now!"
> 
> _Set immediately after 1x13 Manic Pixie Nightmare_

By the time they reached Jada’s loft, Melanie had lost all sensation in her right arm. It took whatever energy she had left to carry them both through the door and over to the bed, and then a bit more to stop Jada from leaping right back up.

They were safe, for now. But the blood that boiled beneath Mel’s skin was only a simmer, compared to that of her companion. She wanted vengeance, and no injury or level of exhaustion would stop her from claiming it.

“Jada, I mean it. You need to calm down.” She pushed her once again, forcing her to stay seated. She felt a small flicker of guilt when Jada hissed at the fresh cut on her arm.

“I can’t” she argued. “Not until those bastards pay.”

“But you’re hurt, and you don’t even have a plan.”

“I don’t need one. I’ll just burn them alive!”

“No!” With one last brute push, Jada fell back. She broke her fall by landing on her elbows, that sunk deep into the tough mattress. She gazed up at Mel with wide eyes, observing the growing creases in her forehead, and the rising blush on her cheeks. “ _You. Rest. Now._ ”

This turn took Jada by surprise, so much so that by the time she caught her bearings again, most of her anger had faded away. All that was left was exhaustion, and an ache in her left shoulder. She pressed down on the wound, letting the pain seer through her palm as she laughed at the absurdity of the moment.

“Huh. Didn’t know you could be so bossy” she teased, watching Mel’s worried brow fall.

She sighed softly, kneeling before Jada and placing both hands on her thigh. “Only when I’m worried sick about my girlfriend.”

Jada blushed, pushing on her hands to rise up to a seated position. From there, she could place her forehead right alongside Mel’s, and her hands so their fingers fit precisely together. “You’re right” she admitted, fatigue now present in her voice. “I do need to rest. I’m sorry I pushed.” She gazed up from beneath her lashes, and into Mel’s warm stare. “Besides, I’m sure those hunters will still be around when I’m recovered.”

“Yeah, and then we can kick those bastards’ asses together.”

“Hm, sounds perfect.”

Mel then placed a kiss on Jada’s temple, holding it a little longer than necessary. It felt warm and familiar, and Jada shivered the moment Mel let go. She quickly reached out and gripped her sleeve as Mel stood up. Was she leaving already? “Uh… can you stay with me?”

“I will” she assured, brushing a knuckle over Jada’s cheek affectionately. “But we should take care of your wound first.”

Right. The pain flared up again in that moment, as if to remind her it was still there.

Melanie turned and headed to the bathroom, still mesmerised by the slight smile on Jada’s face. And the burning in her eyes that could not be extinguished.


	10. Tears and Goodbyes (Macy/Galvin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Macy/Galvin  
> Prompt: “One day I’ll be dead and you’ll regret that.”
> 
> _Set during 1x22 The Source Awakens_

“I miss you.”

“Macy-”

“And I’m sorry, about everything.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Seriously? I should be grovelling at your… ugh, old Nikies.”

“Beg your pardon? These are limited edition. Do you know how long it took me to find these?”

“I don’t know… a hundred years.”

“Mace, I’m offended.”

“You should be. They are a tragic pair, just like _your face_.”

“Wow! … You know, one day I’ll be dead, and you’ll regret saying that.”

“Ha, yeah…”

Those words made the darkness feel… heavier somehow. That’s where she found herself three days after Galvin’s funeral – sitting on her bed in solitude and shadow. Her sisters were downstairs where she had left them. She could hear them moving around, and occasionally saying words out of their nervous whispering. They had been walking on egg shells around her, and she was starting to get sick of it.

But at least they had stuck around… _No_. She couldn’t be mad. Harry had other reasons to be absent. He was too busy reorganising the mess the Elder’s left with their demise. He had as much of a right to be as miserable in his own company as she was.

But she wasn’t alone. She hadn’t been for quite some time. Just yesterday she caught the familiar deep tones of Galvin’s laugh as Maggie had cracked a joke to lighten the room. It immediately simmered back into gloom at the reminder of the loss.

Now, as she sat there gazing absently at the lines of branches silhouetted on the wall, she can feel the dip in the mattress to her left, and a feathery touch on her arm.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you” she blurts out, tears appearing in the rim of her eyes. “And… I’m sorry you had to sacrifice yourself like that, for me.”

“It wasn’t just for you, you know. The entire world was at stake.”

She wanted him to stop making excuses, to stop forcing the blame away from her. But she knew he was right, and that there isn’t a cell in Galvin’s body that would place blame on her shoulders. He would want her to find peace.

“I need to go Macy.”

“I know.”

“I hope… I don’t see you soon.”

“I hope… I hope you find peace, Galvin.”

“Macy… I already have.”

The dip in the bed slowly reflates. The touch on her arm is gone. She is alone once again. She lets the darkness consume her, and the last shed of tears she will cry to mourn Galvin Burdette.


	11. Damn Whitelighter! (Mel/Harry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Mel/Harry  
> Prompt: “I can’t always think of witty come backs.”
> 
> _Set early in season one_

Mel screamed as a fireball careened over her head. She swore she could hear the hiss of her hair singeing from the hot flames.

“Dammit Harry” she cried as she ducked behind a tree. She tossed a glare over at the man who was cowering low by a bench. “Did orbing out into the open _really_ seem like a smart idea?”

“Well I didn’t expect the pit demons to be out in the open either!”

“ _Really?!_ ” she snarled as another ball was thrust in her direction. It almost threw her off balance.

“I don’t think now’s the time to analyse my _skills_ as a whitelighter” Harry hissed. The bench he sheltered behind had burst into flames, with one particular lick lashing out to catch on to his jacket. He shucked it off quickly, stamping it into the ground.

The demon’s lurking closer to their position noticed his distraction and prepared for a final attack. But they clearly weren’t prepared for Mel, who stepped out from the other side of the tree and lashed out. Her spell produced a small blue orb of electricity, that shot out in a large ray of blinding light. It was enough to do some damage, causing one of the demon’s to explode and the other to flee. It clicked its finger and vanished, leaving a speck of smoke in its wake.

She groaned, waltzing over to Harry with her hands planted on her hips. “So… where were we?”

“You were going to tell me once again, what I did wrong. Or how men ruin the patriarchy and should, _hm_ make way for woman to do a, uh… better job-“ his voice died out as he analysed what remained of his jacket sleeve. “I really loved this suit” he sighed, drooping the fabric over his shoulder.

“You okay, grandpa?” Mel asked. There was no concern in her voice, but he knew she meant well. At least well enough for someone with Mel’s disposition. It had been four weeks since he had partnered up with the newly engaged Charmed Ones. Four weeks of extreme prejudice and trying snaps of frustration, from both parties.

“I’m fine. I just… _I can’t always think of witty come backs_. I’m no Vera.”

He was grateful to catch the small affectionate smirk that lit up Mel’s face. A small part of him wondered if she was finally warming up to him. “True. I will give you credit there.” She took a look around, only now aware of the disaster the park had become from their short battle. “Tell me whitelighter, does your healing abilities extend past human capacity?”

He shrugged, wincing at the small fires that surrounded them. “Don’t know. I guess I could… try?”

“Well, get to it. Prove your worth, Harry Greenwood.”


	12. "F**k You Too!" (Harry/Celeste)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Harry/Celeste  
> Prompt: “You’re drunk”

The whiskey he poured sloshed everywhere. Most of the gold liquid made it into the glass, while the rest pooled on the timber surface of the desk, with a few drops making it onto Harry’s pressed trousers. On any other day he would immediately change. He was as much a man of taste as he was of servitude.

But tonight, he was already too plastered to give it a second thought. So instead, he laughed proudly at his clumsiness.

He was blissfully unaware of his surroundings. Of his thoughts. Everything was muddling into unfamiliar shapes and colours. He planted himself in the closest chair to cease the dizziness, but it was still on the edge of his vision. So he shut his eyes, and leant back. Hoping sleep would finally consume him.

But alas. He heard the familiar snap of an in-coming presence. And with the slight hint of intellect he still maintained in his mind, he could instantly figure out who it was. After all, there were only a small number of people left who could still enter the command center without trouble.

“C-Celeste!” he greeted, throwing his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “What brings you here?”

There was a pause. He heard soft tapping getting closer to his spot before those went silent too. _“You’re drunk.”_

He snickered at her abrupt reply, spilling more liquor on his clothes. “Well, no shit honey!”

As his eyes peered open, having already become unaccustomed to the room’s low glowing candlelight, he caught the sight of Celeste towering over them. Or… _were there two Celeste’s standing there?_

“If I had any faith in what remained of the creed, you just diminished it.” She waltzed over and picked up the bottle of liquor, capping it tightly. “Congratulations.”

“Like I give a shit about wha- _ugh_ , what you think.”

“You should” she pressed, slamming the bottle down hard. Harry flinched, his glass taking another steep tip too far to the side. “I am the last chance you have of rebuilding their glory.”

“Glory?” He chuckled, wiping drool from his chin. “You call…. _that_ , glory?” He emphasised the room, not pointing directly at anything that could help his argument. Either way he continued, using the arms of the chair to stumble into a standing position. “It wasn’t glory, Celeste. It was… murder, and torture, and centuries of prejudice. So long the Elders!” he added, lifting his mug like he’s presenting a toast, “and so long the ways of old.”

“You can’t mean that” Celeste rebuffed, softening her voice. He knew exactly what she was up to – playing to his soft side, his kind side, the side that was left behind after a part of him was torn from his soul. “They gave you a second chance, the means to do something right. Don’t you owe them that much, to keep their legacy going for future generations of unprotected witches?”

But she should have known that the side of Harry she was pleading to was already too far gone to listen. And it wasn’t because of the drinking. “Of course I want to. That is our goal, isn’t it? To protect future lineage?

“And I will. I will die, _all over again_ , to protect it. But I will not… WILL _NOT_ do what the Elders have done. I will change it. I will make it better than they could ever imagine. There will be no more experiments, no more hierarchies, and certainly… _no_ more lies.”

He watched her shoulders fall, and her feet gather as she took a few steps back. “But you still need me.”

“Unlikely” he said, lowering his voice. He was already slumping over again, having used the last of his energy on that _epic_ speech. At least, he hoped it sounded epic. The filter on his brain wasn’t working at full capacity, so he could barely recall what he’d just said.

He turned back to the chair, waving a hand behind him. “Just go Celeste. You’re retired. You no longer have a responsibility to this.” As he fell into the seat, he offered her a warm grin, which came out as more of a grimace. “So go, have a Mai Tai on me, and _fuck_ off.”

He was surprised to find there was still liquor in his glass, despite having thrown it around for more emphasis as he had spoken. Still, he swallowed it down quickly, now familiar with the burn in his throat that followed. Exhaustion was on the brink of pulling him towards unconsciousness, and he happily let it.

He didn’t even notice Celeste as she orbed away, never to be seen again.


	13. On The Dawn of Desperation (Marisol/Dexter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Marisol/Dexter  
> Prompt: “I’d rather die than do that”
> 
> _Set before the first scene in 1x12 You’re Dead to Me_

Macy Vaughn had taken her last breath at 3.15 am. Two hours later, Marisol still had the small bundle cradled in her arms.

Her powers, as much of a gift as they are, were now a curse in her eyes. She had seen this day coming for months, and all she had wanted was to see her baby girl, to hold her, to give her life.

Who’s decision had it been to take that all away from her? What was destiny, if not for a mother to watch her daughter grow into a beautiful woman?

There was a soft knock behind her, but she paid it no mind. Dexter entered the room to find it shrouded in darkness. Marisol was sitting in the centre of the bed, back to the entrance, reading a book he didn’t recognise. She must’ve been using the moonlight to read, since that was the only source of light he could find.

“Marisol.” He kept his voice soft, and his approach slow. He laid a hand on her shoulder as he took a seat on the edge of the mattress. She didn’t budge, or acknowledge him at all. “Honey, we need to talk.”

“Give me a moment” she muttered beneath her breath. He heard it loud and clear in the silence of the room. He would be patient. She was grieving. They both were.

She flipped a few more pages of the book, resting in front of her. Now that Dexter could see it more clearly, he noticed how old it was - bound in leather, with frayed pages and old stains of unknown origin. It had clearly been through some history.

She turned one more sheet, and stopped. She dragged a finger down the page, reading the words carefully. He peered over her shoulder in an attempt to read it too, but the language was unrecognisable. The pictures printed along its border, however, were much easier to analyse. “Marisol, what is this?”

She turned her head slightly, finally giving him some attention. Even in the shadows of dusk, he could tell just how dark her eyes were. “It’s a miracle.”

She stood, gracefully, cradling Macy closer to her chest. He had only seen his daughter once – her eyes were closed, the appearance of sleep making his young girl seem peaceful. He was just thankful her death wasn’t more severe than merely drifting off.

“Okay” he nodded, standing too and approaching his wife as she walked across the room. “What’s the plan?”

She showed him the page in question, holding it out in her hand. It shook with the weight of the book, so he quickly took it from her. “This spell… conjures a necromancer.”

“A necromancer?” he asked. “Aren’t those… dangerous?”

“Only if you can’t pay the price for their service.” She looked down fondly at her daughter. “I will give them anything.”

“Any- Marisol, you can’t be serious.” She gazed back, her look long and unfocused. She clearly wasn’t thinking straight. But _how could she?_ “Are you willing to die? Is that it?”

“Of course not. I can’t. She’ll need me.”

“But she needs you now, Marisol. She needs you to let her go.”

Marisol shook her head. Dexter watched as her resolve slowly began to crumble. “No, no. She needs to live. I need her to-“

“She’s gone. It’s tragic, but there’s nothing we can do now. We need to let her go, make arrangements for her funera-“

“I’d rather die than do that!”

Her scream echoed off the walls. It was like a huge gust of force filled the room. Dexter felt it push him back a few steps. His arms were raised, and his eyes wide. He watched Marisol fall to her knees, smothering the baby against her chest as she cried.

“I saw the future” she sobbed, peering up at the man with pleading eyes. “Macy is destined to do great things. I’ve seen it. She gets a second chance. She lives an amazing life. I’ve seen it all.

“I know the sacrifice that must be given, and it-it breaks my heart.” She starts to stand. Dexter hesitates, briefly, before rushing to her side. He holds her elbows as she clings to his sleeve, her other arm still holding Macy close. “But… I would give up _everything_ I have… to bring my baby girl back.”

Her quivering had ceased. He watched as her determination grew, and the strength in the grip on his arm tightened. “Please. Please don’t let me do this alone.”

There was concern still written all over his face, but it was slowly dissolving. As he watched the love of his life fight for their daughter, he finally realised he couldn’t run from that. He couldn’t run from his family.

“Whatever you need, Marisol.” He held them close, placing kisses in her hair. “Whatever you need.”


	14. Grateful (Macy/Chloe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Macy/Chloe  
> Prompt: “Can I hug you?”
> 
> _Set between season one and two_

“Hey, I’m home” Macy shouted, struggling to carry a box of paperwork through the front door. She expected a greeting back, or at least some assistance, but none came.

She dropped the box to the floor, where it landed with loud thud. “Yeah, cheers guys. Thanks for the help” she muttered under her breath, rolling her shoulders and wrists to release some of the aches.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She jumped, only now noticing that she was in fact, not alone. She had also failed to notice the new decorations that lead from the front parlour to the family room. Hundreds of multicoloured streamers, adorned with small jewels, hung from the archway separating the rooms.

She was too shocked to give their guest anything but a small wave. Chloe giggled, clearly ecstatic with the response. “Oh, you like it? Really?”

‘Like’ wasn’t the first word that came to Macy’s brain, or even the 30 or so that followed. “I am… surprised?” It came out as more of a question than a simple answer, one the woodland pixie ignored. Instead, she turned and fluttered through the streamers, opening them like a curtain. She wanted Macy to follow.

Somehow, her legs moved on their own. She was not in control of her faculties right now – she was too engrossed in what had become of the rest of the house.

“Is this another trap?”

Chloe chuckled again. “No, silly. It’s for a party.”

“A party?” Despite the fog on her mind, Macy couldn’t recall any mention of one. Not unless Maggie had set it up at the last minute. It wouldn’t be the first time the youngest Vera sister did something like this. So she asked the pixie if Maggie had indeed been the one to come up with this bright idea.

“Well, no” Chloe answered, tucking some of her violet-tipped hair behind her ear. “I mean, she gave me permission. But… this is all me.”

“Why?” Macy asked. She knows she sounds a little hostile, but she can’t help herself. Her day had been incredibly mundane, so much so that sitting at her desk nine straight hours had taken its toll on her mentality. She expected to come home to a warm beverage and an even-milder bubble bath. She was certainly not expecting streamers, or sparklers, or a… _champagne fountain?_

“I wanted to thank you, _all of you_ , for your advice.” At Macy’s small head tilt, she continued; “About the sisterhood. That we should stick together to protect our hearts.” Her own heart was still attached a thin silver chain that hung around her neck. She held it in her palm. “Me, and three of my friends did what you suggested. And you were right. It has made us stronger.”

“Oh.” For a moment she was overwhelmed. It seemed Chloe’s mood was starting to rub off on her. “Well, I’m glad it’s helped.”

Chloe nodded furiously, her smile still as bright as when Macy had first entered the house. But that’s when she finally notices Macy’s expression. “Oh, are you okay?”

“I… Yeah. I’ve just had a long day.”

“I see.” After a moment of silence, broken by the distant jingling of bells, Chloe threw her arms out. It startled Macy, who took a small step back. “ _Can I hug you?_ ”

Once again, Macy was much too bewildered to give any kind of rational response. So she nodded, slowly. And held still as Chloe approached and wrapped her arms around Macy’s waist. It was a tight embrace, but she found comfort in it. Chloe was a bit shorter than her, so she could smell fresh strawberries and summer flowing off her hair.

She finally relented and brought her hands around to the young pixies back. “Thanks for this, Chloe.”

“Thank _you_ , Macy” Chloe replied, resting her head on the woman’s chest.


	15. Cake For Who? (Ruby/The Sisters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Ruby/the sisters  
> Prompt: Drunk cooking

Harry and Mel landed in the family room without an issue. The smell of the troll’s nest still lingered on their clothes, but otherwise there was no trace of their adventure left.

He immediately released her arm and rolled his head from his left shoulder to his right. “Ah. It feels good to be home.”

“I could not agree more” she replied halfheartedly. She was already kicking off her shoes when Harry orbed away, leaving her with a simple farewell and excuse to get into the shower before Macy could see him. Despite coming home unscathed, he still look like he took a trip into a blender – with his wild mess of hair and pale death-like complexion. She let him off with a wave of her hand, already distracted by a commotion coming from the kitchen.

She walked through to the room in question, a greeting on the edge of her lips. But immediately upon entering, all words she could of said seemed to be inadequate towards the sight she faced.

“Oh no, Ruby” Macy cried, her sobs turning into a cackling laughter as she collapsed to the floor on the other side of the wide kitchen bench. More laughter erupted from behind the dirty surface, out of Mel’s direct line of sight. Taking a few steps to her left to round the corner, she was met with disaster.

“Ruby?!”

\---

This was a bad idea. They would all unanimously agree on this fact, if only the world around them would stop spinning.

“Mags, seriously. Stand still.”

“I am!” Maggie screamed, extending “am” past the point of normal pronunciation. Macy covered her ears at the high-pitched squeal, while Ruby just started giggling. She was uncontrollable, and needed to lean heavily on the sink to stop herself from slipping to the floor. It was already covered in enough flour for it to be considered unsafe to walk on.

But they barely noticed as Macy and Maggie worked in tangent to pour the cake mixture into its tin. They got about eighty percent of it successfully within the perimeter, while the rest piled high on the edge of the tabletop.

“Hey, Macy. Look, Look” Maggie pestered, taking a swig of the light pink goo on her finger.

Macy looked, and immediately started choking on a small bit of chocolate she was chewing.

“Look, Look, I’m… Harry!” She had drawn a long line of the stuff under her nose, curling the ends as best she could with unsteady hands.

Ruby, who was having far too much fun simply watching the chaos unfold, pointed openly at the young witch, her finger a bit too close to her lips. “But he- _ha_ he doesn’t have a _mooo_ stache?”

“No!” she whined, taking a bite in the air at the extended appendage. Ruby didn’t even flinch. “But if he did, he’d be cute!”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Macy’s voice went deep, which in turn just made her start laughing again. “Don’t talk… about my boy that way.”

“Huh. Your boy?”

“Yeah, he’s mine.” That seemed to be the last straw for all three of the girls, who bent over simultaneously like they were hit with cramps at the exact same time. In fact this went on for so long that they missed the timer on the oven chime. The uncooked cake batter just sat there, deflating with every passing minute.

That was about the time Melanie walked in, to find all three woman piled atop one another, covered from head to toe in flour and dough.

“Ruby?!”

“Baby?” Ruby flinched when she heard her name being called. She looked around in a flurry, her unkept bun flying through the air in her wake. After a moment of this, she found Melanie standing an arm’s reach away. “Baby!” she cried out in absolute joy. “I’m so happy to see you.”

She attempted to stand, but Maggie held her down with her arms tightly wrapped around her waist. So Melanie approached instead, kneeling low. “Ruby, what is this? I was only gone for an hour.”

“What? An-An hour?” She scoffed at the notion. “No, no, no. We’ve been here… for a while.”

“Yeah, a while” Macy chipped in, cradling her head against the cabinet, and touching it in gentle, loving strokes.

Mel was trying to search through every corner of her brain to figure out how they could’ve gotten this drunk so fast, while also trying to separate her younger sister from her girlfriend. Turns out the expression of ‘Maggie never letting go of something till she gets what she wants’ wasn’t just a metaphor. “Maggie, sweetheart. I need you to let go now.”

Instead of an argument ensuing like she had expected, Maggie immediately let go, chirping out an over-hyper “okay!”. She was immediately distracted by the big tin of cake batter to notice Mel dragging Ruby away.

At least she didn’t have to worry about Macy, who was now practicing her best kissing techniques on the cupboard door. One overly wasted sister was bad enough. Two of those, plus a clingy lesbian would surely be just enough for her to handle.

“Okay, Ruby. Can you tell me what this is about?” she asks, keeping her voice low in an attempt to calm her girlfriend down.

It fails. “Well” she yells, making Mel flinch. “I wanted to be row-row-romantic _ha,_ and bake you a cake. I was gonna, uh decorate it with little hearts and everything.” She drew small heart shapes in the air, blushing a brighter shade of red than her already flushed cheeks.

Mel quickly gripped her hands. “Ruby, hey. Focus on me.” This has the opposite effect to what she expected, with Ruby leaning a little too close and leaving small smooches on her nose. “Okay. Um, just tell me what you drank, at least.”

“There was champagne in the fridge.”

“But that doesn’t explain this level of intoxication” Mel thought aloud, trying to hold Ruby back from attacking her neck.

“And there was that small vial as well…

“Wait.” She pulled her back, bracing her shoulders. She waited till Ruby’s eyes found hers, still glazed over in fresh titillation. “What vial sweetie?”

“The one in the cupboard, next to the hard liquor. It was clear and sparkly, and it was… calling my name. Weird, right?”

“Oh no.”

Mel’s shock was short-lived, as she caught Ruby’s eyes staring down at her own fingers, slowly rolling the zipper of her jumpsuit down past her breasts. She seemed to be wearing nothing beneath, not even a bra. Mel grabbed her fingers, and pulled the zipper back up as far as Ruby would allow her to. “Okay, none of that. You clearly drank something you weren’t supposed to.”

“Like what?” Ruby asked, crooking her head a little too far to the right.

“A potion that puts faeries to sleep.”

“Oh. Then why am I drunk?”

“I guess it works differently on humans” she explained. But it fell on deaf ears. Ruby’s attention was on Mel once again, only now she had reached the stage of sobbing into the sharp edge of Mel’s jacket collar. She sniffled loudly, the breath from her nose tickling Mel’s throat. “Mel… why do you smell?”

“Long story love.” She left it at that, taking one last look at the aftermath of the kitchen. Her sisters were stable, for now. It gave her just enough time to get Ruby into bed before she took control of the rest of the situation.

Though she had to admit… the cake would’ve been a nice gesture, if it wasn’t all over the table, and Maggie’s face.


	16. SKIP DAY (+ announcement)

If you have been keeping up with my entries for each day and supporting me kudos and comments and retweets and so on, THANK YOU! I would not have expected such kindness or support of something of this magnitude.

But with that being said, this past month, while both challenging and rewarding, has also made me confront of a lot of struggles in my life. i recently lost my dog (who died of the ripe-old age of 13. I will miss him with my whole heart) and a few things job-wise, pertaining to isolation and all that, have made me put a lot of things on hold.

I put a mountain of pressure on myself to do something new, and wasn't happy when the reception was not what i expected it to be. but that's nobody's fault. and i shouldn't have to put any pressure on myself to write something i am proud of.

That's why I've decided to stop writing for this month. I still have a few entries left to upload, ones i have already completed, but otherwise i won't be writing any new entries for Charmed Month.

It has been a blast, and I have learnt quite a bit about my writing and its process, and what was and wasn't working for me. Hopefully in the foreseeable future i will be back to bring you all quality content. until then, enjoy what's left to come, and what's already here.

Remember, we writers put our hearts and souls into our work, and always appreciate the time you take to read and leave kudos or comments. Your support is what keeps us writing!

All the best,

KAT.


	17. Insect-tion (Demon!Macy/Darklighter!Jimmy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Demon!Macy/Darklighter!Jimmy  
> Prompt: “Don’t touch me!”

The power coursing through Macy’s veins is too powerful, and too invigorating to ignore. The flames that lick her skin feel familiar, comforting. In the wake of her sister’s open shock, she can’t help but feel invincible. She leaves them there to deal with the aftermath of her new reign of terror, her mind already set a new goal.

In a flash, she appears in a new place. Walking quickly through the open archway that leads into the command center, she barely skips a step. Her bolstered telekinesis kicks in, searching the room with a quick flick of her wrists. Vials and old texts fly in circles around her, landing sharply on the floor when she deems their content unsatisfying. She concludes - whatever she’s searching for is not where its meant to be.

“My, my. I was _not_ expecting you.” A voice is revealed suddenly, coming out of the darkness behind her. She’s not surprised to hear the desolate tones of the darklighter, who is still locked up tight in the Charmed ones’ make-shift prison. A simple wall of magic, to any hearty demon willing to escape. Clearly, Jimmy had other intentions.

Or perhaps he was just as clueless as Macy deemed him to be. “Who were you expecting?” she asks in a deep, venomous tone – a contingency, no doubt, from retaining her demonic side. She turns slowly, addressing the man with a curious stare. He appears worse for wear. Spending your days in the dark with your own thoughts for company would do that, disregarding the growth on his chin, or wrinkle of his collar.

“The face? Well, sure. That’s the same.” He replies, his cocky infliction making something in Macy’s mind tick. “But _you_ are not Macy.”

“Hm… and _you_ are not Harry.”

Jimmy chuckles, pulling on his shirt. If it was an effort to seem cool under pressure, it was failing. Macy could see right through his _cool_ façade. She anticipated every move, every word, like a wolf hunting its next meal.

“Touché, love. I am indeed, _not_ harry.” He presents himself like a magician – arms outstretched, head bowed, like he’s preparing to pull a rabbit out of his ass. _Now that would actually be interesting_.

“But I am… superior.”

Now this made Macy pause, releasing a hard snicker from her throat. It was anything but amused. “There is nothing _superior_ about you, Jimmy.” She hisses his name from between her teeth that are clenched in a tight grin. She observes the way Jimmy twitches and lays a hand over his pelvis as she continues; “Weren’t you stuck in a bottle but a year ago, demon?”

His prideful grin dims in the low light. He is holding steady to the mask he’s forced onto his face, but Macy can see the cracks starting to show. “I am _more_ than what the elders made me” he howls, with a slight quiver hidden beneath the text.

“I’m _sure_ that’s true. But how can you reach your full potential when you’re still under someone’s thumb?”

“I am powerful. So much more. Even more than _you_ could imagine.”

Wait. Was this small, shape of a man actually puffing out his chest? Like such a small and insignificant measure could make up for next to nothing?

“You’re just a bug” she sneers, her voice hushing to a lower register, so each word drips like venom from her lips, “digging for scraps and searching for meaning in a useless existence.”

He takes a step forward, fists clenched and teeth grinding together. Crooking her head in curiosity, she observes the insect in its vessel, scratching at the glass. He is anxious to break out, to prove his worth to the queen.

She accepts his challenge with a click of her fingers. The wall, that separates them with a royal blue shroud, vanishes in an instant. “Show me” she beckons. No other words are needed to determine what she wants to see.

He abides. Without hesitating, but with a bite Macy had only been moderately expecting, he conjures two knives in his hands, the sharp blades running with thick, sickly-green poison. He simply needs to land a single cut on her body to do any measure of damage.

But this Macy is a force to be reckoned with. The Macy he had grown accustomed to, in her dreams and on that one fair night on the cusp of New York City, was nowhere near what he imagined this version to be. She is quick, cunning, and seems to know exactly where he will be, and what moves he’ll make at every possible turn. If he orbs in black smoke to be placed behind her, she is already facing that direction. If he swipes from the right, then she flicks her left wrist, blocking his strike without physical touch.

He has been trying for five minutes straight before he finally cuts his losses. Dripping with sweat, and the desire to learn more about this vindictive side of his favourite Vera, he wipes his brow. His brain runs through a hundred more contingencies, all doomed to fail.

“Aw. Are you done already, grasshopper?”

She could lash out with as many insect analogies as she wanted. He already knew he was done for. So with one last final big breath, and raise of his knife, he decides to take the easy way out. She can kill him with one simple blow. Just a snap of his neck, and all of his sorrows would be vanquished. A short life insufficiently lived.

He breaks for her legs, aiming to distract her with a low swipe while he directs his real shot for her waist. For just a moment, he thinks he’s succeeded. Macy hesitates, her hand doing the exact opposite of what he expected. In his mind he sees open skies and rolling mountains. Pure freedom.

But he should’ve known victory was not that easy. And Macy, whichever version she may be, was not that stupid. As his blade scrapes the very surface of Macy’s skin, it stops. _Was her skin suddenly impenetrable?_

No. She was simply far too intelligent to trick.

“ _Do not touch me_.” The warning was evident enough, but it was also underlined in a tease that sent shivers down Jimmy’s back and straight to his groin.

Before he could think further along that thought, his arm is jammed backwards. His wrist snaps in one fowl crunch. He screams. It’s mixed in violent delight with Macy’s carnal laughter.

She drops him to the floor in a large mass of broken and roused mess. His concentration, trained on the pain travelling up his arms, is soon refocused on the scene. With Macy’s nail stabbing into his chin and producing enough force to lift it off his chest, he meets her glowing eyes with his own stubborn retaliation. “I should give you points for trying, shouldn’t I? You got so close.”

Any sass he could offer in return seems useless. His weighted shoulders and defeated posture speaks loudly enough for the both of them to interpret. He lost.

“Well, I for one am impressed with your drive.” Somehow from her knelt position, she seems to lean further in, getting closer and closer to Jimmy’s face. Her breath is pure heat, charring the tips of his stubble. Despite the misery and sheer agony she had put him in, he can’t help but feel moved by her presence. The stir in his pants continues to thrive, and grow with this new sensation.

“Perhaps you aren’t so worthless after all.” Finally, he’s released. The flick of her finger leaves a deep chip in his chin, which quickly runs red with blood. A small drop on her fingers makes its way to her tongue. She tastes the strong tang of iron, and lust. “Mm, I will be back for you later fly boy.”

At her last jab to his ego, she vanishes. Her aura of fire and corruption is all that remains in the silence and shadow of the command center.

Jimmy cradles his hand delicately in the other, his mind wondering to what could be next. Technically he’s free. He can leave this prison and finally finish what he started months ago. Or make a run for it altogether, never to be heard from again. But Macy’s words still sting, as a part of him considers his grim future from the cool marble of the floor. Her voice echoes through his head, and every expanse of the room.

_how can you reach your full potential when you’re still under someone’s thumb?_


	18. Reunion (Maggie/Lucy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Maggie/Lucy  
> Prompt: “It’s not like I care…”
> 
> _Set post season two_

Maggie’s shoe was tapping the floor with nervous impatience. A waiter had just delivered two iced coffees to the table – one with two spoonful’s of stevia and almond milk, and the other with the same level of sweetness, soy milk and topped with a swirl of whipped cream and a dusting of cocoa powder. Just the way she likes it.

“Oh boy” Maggie groaned, biting her lip. Her phone sat off to the side, just noticeable enough for Maggie to check the time without turning her head. She was also waiting for a notification she hope never came. But a part of her expected the device to chime its chipper tone, only to let her down.

She didn’t have to wait long for something to happen. To make her heart skip another beat. The phone chimed, and she picked it up hastily, nearly knocking over her drink in the process.

The text she expected from one person, happened to be from another.

**Macy:**

_Hey. Hope your lunch is going well._

_If we aren’t home when you arrive,_

_meet us at CC. Good luck. xx._

She sighed, expecting some of the burden to be gone. But ultimately, it just added to the heaviness that already weighed down on her body. She slammed her phone down on the table, loud enough to pick up some passing glances. She paid them no mind, and just buried her face in her hands, letting out a long and drawn groan past her throat.

“Wow. I haven’t heard you _this_ desperate since that Blue fleece jacket from ASOS when on sale.”

That voice. It had become a part of her conscious far after witchness protection had ruined their lives. The part of her conscious that helped her choose right from wrong, with the perfect level of condescension and sass.

She lifted her head, her hair a fizzy mess scratching at her cheeks. It didn’t matter – her mascara was probably already stained as tears filled her eyes and threatened to fall. She promised herself she would hold back. That she would be cool about this.

But seeing Lucy, for the first time in _a year_ , was clearly too much for what she thought she could handle. She stood, bracing the table and stumbling out to stand before her. She ran her eyes down Lucy’s body, admiring her floral dress and raw cotton wedge heels. She met her eyes, which for a moment looked as sad as she felt. But Lucy had always governed her emotions well, especially in public. It seemed she still had a reputation to uphold, even in Seattle.

“Lucy” Maggie finally spoke, her name said with so much affection, it could make anyone who overheard cringe. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be, genius?” There it was – the sarcastic, no-bullshit response Maggie had been expecting. And missing.

“Well I just… I thought you’d be more surprised.”

A half-assed chuckle escaped Lucy’s throat, but fell flat too quickly. She lifted a fist to her mouth. “Well, _it’s not like I care_ …” There was a faint wobble in her voice. She tried to hide it behind her hand, but Maggie could see it all too well.

It looked like the façade was finally over. “Oh who am I kidding?” Lucy cried, a small Texan infliction coming out in her voice. Yet, another quirk Maggie missed deeply. Only she knew that when her best friend got overly-excited, did her real accent appear loud and proud. But only in private, and only for Margarita Vera’s ears.

With her mind too occupied with her memories to notice, Maggie was immediately crushed in a hug, far too tough for someone with Lucy’s thin frame. She took a few steps back with the bombardment, then held on for dear life. The swell of her favourite fragrance – rose bud and vanilla – filled the aura that surrounded them, and shrouded them from the rest of the world. For a moment, it was just them, embracing one another in a way Maggie had not expected from her friend.

“Of course I missed your sweet ass” Lucy sobbed, breaking any monetary reprieve with a cackle of Maggie’s laughter. “Kappa Tau Kappa hasn’t been the same without you.”

“I know you don’t mean that” Maggie retorted, her sobbing mixed in to the small vibration of hiccups escaping Lucy’s chest.

She pulled back and braced Maggie’s shoulders tightly. “That’s not true” she declared. “I haven’t found a single freshman worthy of your place. You left a big hole to fill, baby girl.” She tucked a strand of auburn hair behind Maggie’s ears, taking a moment to admire the pearl earring that was hidden behind it. “Wow, girl. If I can say” – she took a step back, admiring the rest of Maggie’s attire – “You look _in-cred-i-ble_!”

Maggie blushed, turning her head away and wiping her nose on the edge of her sleeve. She felt like a hot mess beneath Lucy’s blatant stare.

Still, the woman refused to back down from her reign of compliments. “I am serious here. You are dressed to kill here, and…” She took a step forward, closely inspecting Maggie’s face with a crooked eye. “Are you glowing?”

She smacked away Lucy’s hand, that had come up to stroke her cheek. “Okay, okay. That’s enough.” She gestured to the table. “I think your drink is going lukewarm.”

“I don’t care.” That put Maggie off guard. The last person who stood between Lucy and her favourite chilled beverage was kicked out of Kappa faster than it took to remake the drink. “Well, okay. I do care.” Yeah, _that’s more like it_. “I just… I haven’t seen you in so long. Let me just… take you in. Okay?”

She smiled fondly, letting another cluster of tears fall down her face. “I have really missed you Lucy.”

“Likewise, Mags.” They met for another hug. It wasn’t as tenacious as the last, but it was still warm, and secure. Just what Maggie had needed.


	19. This Is No Time For Swinging (Ray/The Sisters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Ray/The Sisters  
> Prompt: “I told you not to get too close.”

“Dammit, Ray! _I told you not to get too close._ ”

He tried not to let Mel’s condescending tone get to his head. But of course, she was right.

“Okay. Just… stay there. We’ll cut you down when we’re done with these Gnomes.”

“Wh-Where am I gonna go?!”

“You know what I mean! Just… wait a second.”

Something was shoved into Ray’s back, causing him to starting swinging once again. The violent thrust of the rope tied to his left calf was pulled too tight, cutting off circulation and all sensation in his foot. If he wasn’t cut down soon, he was afraid he would lose the limb all together.

Then again, he wasn’t a doctor. He was just an archaeologist. And a terrible one at that.

One history book had led him to an old man in a pub outside of Colorado, which led him to a map buried deep in an old box in the attic of a national history museum (with lax security, thankfully), which _finally_ led him here. This forest was centuries old, with trees so tall they hid the bright midday sky from the deeply mossed floor. And as much as a torch could light up their path further into the shrubbery, he had failed to see the traps that lay all around them.

It seemed once he got caught, they were much more visible. Because his daughters were fairing far better than he was. He couldn’t see the commotion, but he could hear it clearly – the Gnomes were snarling, the sheering of their spears coming up occasionally with their striking grunts. Melanie, the loudest of the witches, screamed out spell after spell in perfect Spanish. Maggie stood a little closer, and must’ve been put on ‘protect the old man’ duty. He couldn’t detect Macy, but he did feel an occasional burst of heat on the back of his neck.

It didn’t help with the drench of sweat that was already pouring from his skin and drenching his shirt. At least the swinging had stopped. Now he just needed the remove the blurriness from his vision and nausea from his stomach.

It would be a lot easier if he wasn’t _upside down!_

“I know, I know. Hang on.”

Oh. His complaint must’ve been said out loud. Frankly, he hadn’t been paying too much attention to his surroundings. But now he could hear the silent echo of calm. The battle must be over.

He felt strong hands on his leg. “Okay, Macy. Cut the rope.”

“Wait-“ He tried to halt their actions, but before he could blink a flurry of flames, thin and the colour of cobalt, cut through his rope, barely leaving any fray behind. As he started to drop, his face an inch from slamming into the forest floor, the grips on his thigh and hip tightened. His two other daughters lowered him gently to the ground.

“Dad” Maggie said, sounding more concerned than anything that had come out of Mel’s mouth. “Are you hurt anywhere.”

“No, no” he assured, patting her arm. “I think the only thing wounded today was my ego.”

“Serves you right” Mel interjected. She knelt down on his other side, a smile barely visible on the corner of her lips. “I think it could’ve used a few more knocks, but you’ve been through enough today.”

“Thanks” he replied, both in sarcasm and recognition. “I think… I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Mel took his right arm, while Maggie helped lift him to his feet with his left. Slowly, they made their way back out of the tall trees, the only evidence of their visit being singed branches and… wait, _is that a decapitated gnome-head??_


	20. A Day In The Sun (Macy/Harry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Macy/Harry  
> Prompt: A day at the beach
> 
> _A continuation (of sorts) of Day (Chapter) Seven: The One_

Macy owed Maggie a lot of gratitude for this day. Although she knows her sister would shake it off and tell her to just “get out of here and have some fun!” And with Harry in accompaniment, of course that would be the rebuff to her recognition.

Still, she was blessed to have this place to themselves. The gift could’ve very well been taken up by the very two who had earned it – along with a new and very extravagant promotion, Safe Space offered this ‘stay in paradise’ package deal to the two new lucky managers of events. But Jordan had been in wholehearted agreement with Maggie. They weren’t the two who needed this getaway the most.

The cottage they were staying in for the next four days was just big enough for a family of two – with a well-stocked kitchen, a bigger-than-necessary bathroom, and a bedroom with the perfect view of every sunset. Unfortunately they missed it the first night. But fortunately, it was because Harry had been a bit too thrilled to try out the bed’s massage feature, which had, of course led to other strenuous activities.

She was convinced she wouldn’t miss it tonight, even if it meant playing ‘cold turkey’ for the rest of the day. It was a harder challenge than Macy had wanted to face, but determination was one of her strongest traits.

Harry was already outside, walking barefoot over the small dune that separated the back porch from the shore. She watched him disappear into a fuzzy shape on the horizon as she packed the last of the essentials. With the picnic basket packed the brim, she placed the lids down as far as they would close and lifted the handles. It was a struggle to carry, but one she could manage. At least with the short amount of steps it would take her to get to the beach.

There was no need to lock up the cottage, so she slid the door shut with her foot before descending the stairs. The heat of the sun was already too warm for ten in the morning. Even her green threadbare wrap dress was starting to stick to her skin. She was lucky she had paid attention to the weather reports before they had left the manor. That meant she had brought extra sunscreen and other sun-safe supplies. That also attributed to the extra weight of the basket. She really should’ve bought an extra bag.

She arrived at her destination, huffing through her teeth and dropping the bag down harshly. It sunk rapidly into the sand.

“Was I supposed to assist?” she heard Harry cry as he ran to her side. His feet were wet and covered in bits of thick grit. He must’ve been testing the temperature of the ocean while waiting for her arrival. “I apologise for not realising.”

“No, don’t be. I sent you ahead to make sure the blanket hadn’t blown away.” Despite the heat of June, the breeze was minimal. It was just enough to cover the beads of sweat on her forehead with a an extra layer of chill.

“Ah!” he sighed. “Very well.” He kneeled at the foot of the small patch Macy had set out. She was out here earlier that morning making sure every detail – great and small – was perfect. She watched Harry’s stare dance from the cross-stitch blanket to the overflowing box of goodies and then back up to her face. His smile was bright, his teeth almost blending perfectly into his pale skin. “I think you’ve created a little paradise here.”

“Hm-mm. And it’s just for us.”

“I like the sound of that.” As he spoke, he delicately plucked each button on his tunic open. He stripped it from his shoulders, slowly rolling it down his arms. They were as toned as they had ever been, and even though she had touched them herself last night, she couldn’t help but admire their grooves, the detail perfected by the angle of the sun and the shade of the looming palm trees.

Now he was down to just his navy blue swim trunks, which was not helping Macy from admiring more of his body. She could only appreciate so much before the tension at her thighs became too much to bare alone.

And besides, _she_ was supposed to be distracting him.

“So” Harry interjected, breaking her out of her thoughts with a sharp clap of his hands. “What do we have?”

They spent the next few minutes unpacking. It was a simple assortment of foods and beverages – plenty of fruit and punch to soothe against the growing heat, pre-made sandwiches of the couple’s favourite varieties, and a chilled bottle of champagne for when the day got a little _steamier_.

Harry was clearly peckish, having already devoured half of the grapes before she had set everything out. She smacked his hand away, warning him of bad indigestion. “You can’t go swimming if you can’t breathe.” He gulped at her telling look, nodding in agreement as he popped the lid back on the container.

Finally when everything was placed to her liking, she rose to her knees. The wrap was tied at her right side and was simple to unknot. With one swift tug of the strap, the material flew behind her like a cape. Harry, who was pouring two glasses of pineapple punch, looked up just in time for the thin material to fall from her waist. He looked on in surprise, the tip of the cup missing his lips and drooling down his chin. He wiped it off in a hurry, still too mesmerised by the way Macy looked in her slick, black swimsuit to turn away.

“That’s much better” she moaned, rolling her head about to loosen the tension in her neck. She put her hand back into the basket and produced from its depth a small white bottle. She held it out to Harry, with a small glance over her shoulder. “Want to help me out?” she asked, chuckling under her breath at the man’s expression. _So much for cold turkey_ , she thought as his eyes travelled long expanse of her back.

He shook the cobwebs out of his head and leaned forward to take the bottle. “Sure. Uh, where-“

Before he could ask she had moved, placing herself in an upward facing dog position, then lowering her chest gently onto the rug.

Macy hadn’t realised how low the back was on the piece before she had bought it. But upon further inspection, she realised the dip was not too bad. And she could admire the way the cut of the bra showed just a tease of side-boob. She wasn’t as crude as she appeared to be in front of others, especially when she was wearing something she felt unbelievably sexy in.

And when she could feel Harry’s stare, running down the bridge of her waist, and her slender thighs. He admired her with deep thought and a hidden desire. She craved that attention more than anything.

Even more so right now, as his hands – cool to the touch because of the cream – massaged in expert precision over her shoulder blades. She held the moans deep in her throat as his hands travelled lower, breaking past the seams on her suit with the tips of his fingers. Not much other skin was showing, but he did take a moment to touch the patch of waist unveiled through the hand-sized holes in her side. It tickled a little, and she budged as the shivers travelled down her spine.

“Am I that good?” he enquired quietly, feeling her quiver under his strokes.

“Hm, the best” she mumbled into her arms.

This went on for far longer than necessary. Harry was taking his sweet time, teasing Macy with every caress. He was especially wicked when he got to the curve of her ass, slipping his fingers between her legs in slow, and precise circles. She lifted a foot to jab him in the ribs. “Stop playing” she sighed, flipping over on to her back to give him the best stare she could manage against the blinding sun.

He chuckled, shifting his weight up a little too block her from the bright star. She appreciated the shade, and the new view of Harry’s knowing smirk and toned abs. “I am merely performing my duties as a whitelighter, ma’am.”

“Ah, of course. And pray tell, what evil entity are you protecting me from today?”

“It’s the most vicious of its kind.” His hands, re-lubricated, took extra care and attention following the curve of Macy’s breasts up to her shoulders. He’s leaning in close, his voice a tight whisper as he finished his anecdote; “The dreaded, and dangerous… _melanoma!_ ”

“Oh my god.” She groaned, punching his shoulder as he chuckled. She loves his laugh, in all its affection and vulgarity, and couldn’t help but join in as he rubbed the sunscreen down her arms. “You are such a nerd.”

“Oh, you love it.”

“Of course I do” she winked.

Once he was done probing every trace of skin Macy had to bare, it was Harry’s turn. If he thought he could be torturous with his touches, then he had nothing on Macy. Her fingers were calloused with precision, and glided over his skin with enough pressure to induce sparks in their wake. She paid particular attention to his chest, slowing the descent of her hands just enough to ghost over his nipples. She felt them grow stiff beneath her palms.

“Now, who’s teasing?” he echoed back, breathing harder through the sensation.

She was looking deep into his eyes, avoiding a glance south to the tent she was aware of, rising in his trunks. “Maybe _you_ shouldn’t be so excited” she rebutted, dusting off her hands at the completion of her task.

“Well, maybe you should’ve been a bit quicker.” His own attempted rebuttal fell flat, faster than his arousal to the loss of Macy’s touch.

But just as suddenly as Harry’s deflation, Macy is standing and backing up towards the shore. She crooked her fingers, and bit her lip as she picked up the pace. “Come and make me.”

He took the challenge in great haste, climbing to his feet in one big lunge. He was already gripping her waist before she could reach the water, picking her up and spinning them both around.

To say Macy’s plan was a fail, would be a tragic understatement. But determination IS her strongest trait, even if she must alter her priorities.


	21. Ruining The Friendship (Maggie/Jordan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Maggie/Jordan  
> Prompt: “You had ONE job.”

Conjuring a portal was not as simple as orbing. Jordan learned this quickly, and severely.

With strength that he never saw coming, Maggie chucked him into the black abyss. He came out the other side, rolling to a stop against a wall. She followed soon after, landing perfectly on her three inch heels. With the veil of cobalt blue illuminating the outline of her body, she looked like an angel.

Or perhaps, that was just because of the rising concussion. His head _had_ taken a nasty hit upon his abrupt stoppage.

“Dammit, Jordan.” She ducked before him and lifted his chin. He squinted as the dull light of the room became too sharp too suddenly. “ _You had ONE job_.”

“I know, I know” he grumbled, wiping his eyes.

“Okay, care to remind me what it was again?” She stood and started pacing, letting go of the small worry to Jordan’s safety. Now she was brimming with irritation at the plan that went wrong all too quickly.

“To keep watch” he answered. His eyes were finally accustomed enough to stay open without excessive blinking, and he realised they had landed in, what he perceived to be Maggie’s bedroom. He had never actually been inside before, only ever having seen it in passing on his way up to the attic. He took in the pink accents and collection antiques. It matched her bubbly personality well.

“And?”

His observations were disrupted by her sharp assertion. Looks like ‘bubbly’ wasn’t the trait he’d be dealing with tonight.

When he took a glance in her direction, he noticed she had her hands planted firmly on her hips. “I was watching” he ensured. “I swear. They must’ve known I was there, and came in from the other direction.”

“Well, good. That would’ve been great to know before they nearly _disintegrated_ my extensions.”

“Why are you blaming me?” he asked, stumbling to his feet. He kept a hand braced to the wall as the dizziness in his mind slowed to a calm.

“I’m not. I just… the plan was sound. I don’t see how it could’ve gone wrong so fast.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re pointing blame at me.”

“I’m not!” she cried, approaching him but keeping some distance. Her hands balled into fists as she hit them gently over her temple. “I’m not. I’m just-“

“Angry?”

“No. No.”

“Bitter?”

“Jordan-“

“Regretting your decision to bring me along?”

“I was worried!” He froze on his next statement, taking in Maggie’s creased brow, and heavy breathing. The dim light shined brightly in her eyes, as they threatened to fill with tears. “I was worried about you, okay? When I didn’t hear from you, I thought they had gotten to you first. I-I thought you were…”

Nothing more needed to be spoken. Jordan understood now. Maggie was fiercely protective of her family. He just hadn’t understood that since he had become a part of that inner circle, she now considered him family too.

He sighed, pushing himself off the wall and swaying a bit in his approach. He took her swiftly in his arms, and she immediately buried herself against his chest. Tears weren’t falling, but there was still a slight tremor in her small frame. “I’m okay” he reassured her, rubbing small circles into her back. “I’m okay.”

His words of security came out in soft whispers, echoed in the hollows of her ears. As she was enveloped in his warm embrace, she became aware of a new sensation, coming seemingly out of nowhere, and everywhere at the same time. Along with her growing appreciation for the man, and a slight attraction to his marbled physique, there was something simmering just beneath the surface.

She untucked her face from his coat, making him pull back too. His fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and his eyes searched her face for any traces of doubt or fear that could still be there.

But he was not expecting Maggie, with flushed cheeks and sombre eyes, to kiss him.

It was brief, but felt eternal, as the very atmosphere surrounding them slowed with the soft ticking of Jordan’s wristwatch.

“Maggie…”

“I know.” She knew the exact question that hung on the tip of his lips. And of course, she had an answer ready for it.

But their lips met again, this time with much more heat and desperation. The force of her kiss and her body pushed him back into the wall he had just been leaning against. But this time, she placed a hand in his hair to stop him from getting hurt again. Despite the rush of it all, Maggie’s concern was still apparent, with every delicate touch and caress of her tongue.

“Maggie, we shouldn’t-“

“I know.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, yeah. This is just the adrenaline.”

“Nothing more.”

“Hm. Is your head-“

“Oh it’s better.”

“Okay.”

Their words came and went in a flurry of hot breath. She had expertly removed his jacket, while he subtly brushed the elastic from her hair.

He couldn’t say he was amazed at the resilience of the young witch. Or the power she held in her touch alone, as she spun them and pushed till his legs hit the edge of the bed.

In the morning, they may come to regret this. But for tonight, Jordan was under Maggie’s very jerk and demand.


	22. ANOTHER BREAK.

Just making sure the numbers on the prompts match up.

I hope you're having a fantastic day, and enjoying the fics so far! :)


	23. A Conversation (Maggie/Mel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Maggie/Mel  
> Prompt: “You’re never this quiet, what’s wrong?”
> 
> _Set soon after the season two finale_

“Maggie.” Mel knocked twice, breaching the open door with a small glance into the dimly lit room.

The sister in question sat on the foot of her bed, one leg tucked up under her knee. Her fingers were playing with the frayed edges of her old sweater, and her eyes barely left that focus when Mel entered the room.

She felt the sharp nudge of her elbow as she sat down beside her. “Mags” she tried again, hoping to rouse some spirit. She just looked so withdrawn, and Mel had hardly a clue as to why that would be. While it was true that today had been miles from successful, at least they had still come home with some semblance of an idea as to what the faction was really up to. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

“Why do you think something’s up?”

Mel chuckled in disbelief. “Seriously? ‘Cause _you’re never this quiet_. The last time you were like this was when Parker left… Wait, is this about Parker?”

“No. It’s not about… him.” Her hesitance to say his name was expected, so Mel didn’t question it.

It seemed she would have to dig deeper to come up with what was really bothering her sister.

“Then _what’s wrong?_ ”

Clearly, Maggie was holding something back, and perhaps on any other day she could continue to do so. But under her sister’s determination, she knew it was a failed attempt before it even begun. “Okay… It’s Harry.”

Mel was startled at this admittance. Harry had looked kinda lovesick at dinner, keeping his glance at Macy almost the entire meal. Maggie and herself had mostly spent it darting eyes at each other, hiding their amusement and embarrassment over the obvious mushy behaviour of the two. In fact, if Mel was remembering correctly, Maggie had seemed fine at that time. And that had only been a few hours ago. What could’ve changed so much in that brief period of time?

“Okay” she stated plainly, waiting for the inevitable penny to drop. “What about Harry?”

“He asked me for a favour this evening.” There was a pause, as Maggie swallowed nervously. “He wants me to use my powers.”

“Your… powers. What, your new ones?”

“The emotional inception. Yes.”

“Well, what would he want that for?” Melanie’s brain buzzed with this new information, coming up with a dozen reasons for Harry’s unusual request. Would it be for Julian? Jimmy? Yeah he seemed like a perfect candidate-

“Macy.”

Okay. That was not a name she thought she’d hear in remark to that question. “Macy? Why would he-“ Again, her mind ran a mile ahead with speculations. The first one she reached made her clench her fists. No. Not possible. “Maggie, does he want to do what I’m thinking he wants to do?”

“I don’t know. What are you thinking?” she asked in genuine confusion.

“Oh, that _bitch!_ ” Mel was shooting off the bed faster than Maggie could anticipate. Luckily, her new exercise regime had put some new found strength in her muscles. She could easily grab her sister’s shoulder before she completely circled the bed to exit the room. “No, no. Okay. Not _that_. It wasn’t that, Mel.”

It took a few more attempts at reaching the loud authority in Mel’s head, but eventually she sat back down in the same place she had just leapt up from. “Then what?” Mel asked in concern. “What else could he possibly-“

“I don’t know!” She interrupted Mel’s argument with a volume much louder than she had been using. It stopped her sister dead in her tracks. “I didn’t stay for details. I told him I wouldn’t do it and left him in the library.

“And frankly, I don’t think I’m ready to test that myself yet. I mean, I used it on Macy while we were trapped in the marble, and almost lost consciousness.” She glanced over at Mel, who was glancing back with a new awareness to what Maggie was truly feeling. She had placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “I just… I’m not ready. I need to get used to all of it before I figure out what its limits are.”

“Of course.” Maggie’s posture fell a little. Mel was now noticing how physically draining this must all be for her. She hoped her own emotional uprising hadn’t attributed to her exhaustion.

With her other arm, she gradually tugs Maggie down, leaning her heavily into her side. She holds her, letting some calm and clarity flow through her body and into her sister’s trembling frame. “It’s okay” she offers in encouragement. “It’s your body. Your ability. Your decision.”


	24. A Moment With The Sisterhood (Harry/The Sisters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Harry/the sisters  
> Prompt: “I’m not scared!”
> 
> _Set between season one and two_
> 
> _Suggested by[@cwcharmedd](https://twitter.com/cwcharmedd) on twitter / [@scousesal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scousesal) on AO3._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be my last entry for Charmed Month. If you've stuck with me through all this trying and challenging times, thank you. if you've left kudos and comments and shared my stories on twitter, thank you. if you haven't had the chance to read these stories until now, thank you. i wouldn't be here, at this point in my life writing like this, without the support and compassion of all of you.
> 
> So again (before it gets annoying), THANK YOU!!

He huffed, fixing the waist of his suit jacket for the third time since stepping off the stairs. “ _I’m not scared_ , you know.”

“Clearly.” Maggie gave him an amused grin, smoothing the corners of his collar as she made sure Harry looked pristine. He hadn’t asked for her assistance at all. But he was still grateful for it, even if he hadn’t uttered it out loud yet. Still, Maggie could read anyone like an open book, and her whitelighter was no exception.

“It’s gonna be great.” Mel walked in just as Maggie had completed her assessment. She was carrying a small red parcel, tied with gold twine. She pushed it gingerly into his shaking hands. “You’ve got this, old man.”

“Do I?” he bit back nervously. “What if I say something I shouldn’t? He can’t know about what I am.”

“Well you have to tell him something, Harry” Mel insinuated. “You haven’t exactly aged since 1957.”

“I know, I know.” He was fidgeting again, much to Maggie’s chagrin.

She slapped his hand away from his waist jacket. “Enough Harry. You look like a masterpiece.” She sighed softly at his sudden stiffness, planting her hands gently on his shoulders. “You _can_ do this. It’ll be an hour at best. You just have to make light conversation until it’s over.”

“Maggie Vera, are you trying to influence me?”

“Huh, I wish” she quipped, smoothing her hands over the thick cotton coat one last time. “There. You are all set.”

“But what if it’s too much? What if I break down again?”

From his downward stare, he caught a silhouette spread over the shimmery timber, entering from the family room. “Then we will be here, waiting for your return.” Macy approached, forcing his head to lift slowly with her growing proximity. When she was standing but a hand-width in front of him, she braced his forearms. In the same way Maggie’s touch had a positive effect on his mood, Macy’s did almost the opposite. But not in a negative manner. There was just something else under the soft expression and warm presence. But it was too late to make something more of it. He had somewhere to be, didn’t he?

“Carter will be happy to see you.” Macy’s words washed over him, giving him new purpose. A new drive. He finally nodded with acceptance, as he ducked his head. He had anticipated the kiss, which felt soft and tender against his temple. Still, it was a nice surprise. Something he could think of fondly while he waited in the pub for his son’s arrival.

“Alright” he finally said, turning to the sisters. They looked back, all bright and hopeful. “Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it, Harry. You’ve got this.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter @ [katasstropheee](https://twitter.com/katasstropheee). i'm pretty active over there.


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